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“Hey, today’s Pocky Day.”
“…What?”

We were sitting side by side on the couch, lazily watching TV after dinner, when Ibuki suddenly got up and brought back some snacks from the kitchen.

“Technically, it’s Pocky & Pretz Day, but Pretz gets totally forgotten. Kinda sad, huh?”
“…Seriously, what are you talking about?”

She sat there holding Pocky in her right hand and Pretz in her left, alternating between the two. She gave the half-eaten Pretz a pitiful look, like she was mourning its fate.

“It’s kinda like when a comedy duo’s goofy guy makes it big, but the straight man gets left behind. They should be equals, but Pocky hit the big time and is always on TV, while Pretz gets all its scenes cut. And then their paychecks are totally unbalanced… It’s tragic.”
“…What are you even saying right now?”

I’d been quietly listening, but I genuinely had no idea what she was going on about. Why was she turning a snack into a struggling entertainer? She’d never even watched anything like that, but she spoke with this weird level of conviction.

“Even at the convenience store, the Pocky shelf was almost empty, but the Pretz was fully stocked. Where did Pretz go wrong, you think?”
“How would I know? If you feel that bad, why don’t you just buy a ton of Pretz?”
“No way. I like Pocky better.”
“…What is wrong with you?”

The Pretz remained untouched while she ripped open her second bag of Pocky. I get it — sweet snacks probably hit better after dinner than salty ones, but still. If you went out of your way to buy them, at least give the Pretz some love.

“Haa… Fine. I’ll eat them, so hand over the Pretz.”
“Yukino, you’re so kind-hearted. Looks like Pretz finally found a foster parent.”
“Foster parent? I’m literally just gonna eat them.”
“What a cruel twist of fate. Poor Pretz… forgotten by everyone, only to get eaten in the end.”
“At least it ends the same as Pocky. Lucky them, huh?”

Ibuki shoved the bag into my hands, fake-crying as if she had comic book speech bubbles over her head. I wondered if this was how moms end up gaining weight — finishing off whatever their kids don’t eat.

“They’re good, but… yeah, sweet stuff hits better after a meal.”

I didn’t hate Pretz, but I’d already stuffed myself at dinner. If the bag had been unopened, I probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Then wanna eat some Pocky?”
“…I’ll eat it.”

I grabbed a pinch of belly fat and sighed, already picturing my future regret. Maybe I’d wake up early for a run tomorrow…

“Thanks for the— wait, what are you doing?”

Just as I went to take a bite, Ibuki pulled the Pocky away like Turkish ice cream, leaving me chomping at empty air. I looked up to see her grinning at me like a little devil.

“What? It’s Pocky Day, so let’s play the game.”

She bit the chocolate-covered end, holding out the stick to me like an invitation.

“Pokky gehm,” she mumbled through the candy, words muffled. She really should’ve said it before putting it in her mouth.

“Cmon,” she teased, wiggling the Pocky up and down in front of my face like bait on a fishing line.

But I wasn’t a fish. I was human. And I wasn’t about to bite at such an obvious lure.

“Ah, hey— Don’t break it… mmph.”
“Shut up.”

I snapped the swaying Pocky in half with my fingers and plugged her complaining mouth.

“Jeez… I just wanted to see you get all flustered.”
“We’re way past the point of blushing over something like this. Besides, if that’s what you wanted, you should’ve just asked me outright instead of playing these roundabout games.”
“…Idiot.”

I’d seen Ibuki turn red with embarrassment more times than I could count, yet no matter how familiar the sight, it still shook me to my core and unraveled whatever self-restraint I had left.

I took her hand as she pretended to sulk, pulling her into our bedroom.

If someone had told me last year that we’d become so comfortable doing things like this, I would’ve laughed in their face. I thought back to this time last year — when we kept missing each other like idiots — and the memory made me smile.

“What’s so funny?”

Ibuki, now lying on the bed and looking up at me with curiosity, tilted her head.

“I was just thinking… I never imagined back then that one day I’d be stripping you down and making your face turn bright red like this.”
“What are you even saying… geez…”

I lost count of how many times I kissed that adorable, pouting face before finally turning off the lights.

We fell asleep after making love, only to wake up the next morning to find the Pretz had gone all soggy from sitting out all night. But even that turned into another silly, shared memory we laughed about together — perhaps because we’d started as childhood friends before we became something more.

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